


The Best Is Yet To Come

by shesaysbriefthings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Kylo Ren is a menace, M/M, Phasma is long-suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesaysbriefthings/pseuds/shesaysbriefthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Brendol Hux II has never been accused of being a patient man, but this, surely, would test the equanimity of the most peaceable Jedi master ever to live. Kylo is, truly, the most insufferable man Hux has ever has the displeasure of working with. </p><p>Hux would have a much easier time hating him if he didn't look like that, though. </p><p>Or: Hux is perpetually exasperated, Kylo is full of an unspecified and poorly-directed rage, and Phasma wonders, not for the first time, how the First Order is ever going to accomplish its somewhat lofty goals, given that its figureheads are both incapable of behaving like human adults. </p><p>Business as usual, in fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Is Yet To Come

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: Very cheesy. Very silly. Not a lot in the way of actual plot.  
> Also, the first thing I've written in maybe 6 years? And, as will become abundantly clear, I am not super familiar with the extended SW universe and am far too lazy to properly research, for which I apologise in advance. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, though, and I hope you enjoy it too. This fandom is a truly excellent one, and I'm excited to contribute something.

General Brendol Hux II has never been accused of being a patient man, but this, surely, would test the equanimity of the most peaceable Jedi master ever to live. 

Why? Why couldn’t Lord Ren, supposed master of the Force, brilliant, brutal genius, think of a way to channel his rage other than destroying his own ship? _My ship_ , Hux thinks sourly. 

It’s absurd. He’s a grown man. Anyone else would stifle or drown their anger in a sensible place, like a punching bag in the officer’s gym. A simulation droid on the blaster range. The bottom of a nice bottle of rum. 

Hux isn’t going to give Ren the satisfaction of asking what’s incurred his ire this time. It is 2350 and Hux very, very badly wants to be in bed. In exactly five standard hours and ten minutes, his alarm will be going off and he’ll have to do all this once again. Instead, he is here, in Comms Room D, looking over the mess a very petulant force-user has made of the secondary shield control panel. 

Hux sighs. It is going to be, he suspects, another long week. 

\----------------------------------

It had started 8 months ago. Well, for all practical purposes. Really, Hux supposes, it started when he (he, the Hux of only three short years ago, a vibrant, fanatical, power-hungry Lieutenant General, with bags under his eyes, barely any flesh on his bones and the look of a hungry wolf on his lean, handsome face. Hux often wonders how it feels like a lifetime ago. Like he was a wholly different man) submitted the final plans for Starkiller Base, the construction project that he would spearhead at the age of 31, the project that would finally see him promoted to General. What he had craved since he was a cadet, wet behind the ears and very, very young in so many ways. 

Construction had started auspiciously. Supreme Leader Snoke had had the final selection of planet, after Hux had created a shortlist (Hux wondered at the time how Snoke had managed to make such a decision, having certainly never visited any of the planets himself. Hux no longer wonders about this). 

The (already very sparse) planetary population was quickly subdued, the below ground works commenced, and though the usual problems of procurement, programming, contractors, and general incompetence reared their ugly heads, Hux powered through a very long, very cold winter to finally reach the point where he no longer needed to be based planetside in order to direct operations. His return to his ship (the flagship, the ship he had helped build, had loved when he was nothing more than a Colonel, the ship that was now his to command) had been a long time coming. 

Unfortunately, when he did so, he found that his ship was no longer, well. His. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

“I’m sure the two of you will work admirably together.” Snoke’s voice, projected through the hologram, was smooth and dangerous, and brooked no argument. 

Hux was not at all sure he would work in any manner which could be called admirable with the masked creature standing beside him, but he had not been promoted to General for his insubordination and immaturity. 

“Of course, Supreme Leader.” 

“It is for the good of the First Order that you find a way to overcome any disparities you have in your methods of work, and find common ground. General, Lord Ren is one of our most powerful assets and my own apprentice. Kylo Ren, the general is my most trusted and capable strategist. I trust that no problems will arise in the performance of your shared duties, and that, if they do, you will resolve them swiftly.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Hux replied immediately. 

The man in the mask was silent and immobile beside him. 

“Kylo Ren will require access to your troops from time to time, General. I hope you will make his stay on the Finalizer as pleasant as possible.”

Hux had considered the eighteen months he had spent managing construction operations on one of the coldest, dullest, most inhospitable places he had ever had the misfortune to be stationed the most challenging part of of his career to date. He had rather hoped it would remain that way. He was starting to get an unpleasant feeling in his gut that the worst, as they said, was yet to come. 

\---------------------------------------------------

Which brings General Hux through an eight-month stint of barely controlled rage, an average of four hours sleep a night, and a distinct lack of sobriety, to this point. The disaster zone formerly known as Comms Room D. 

Ren is breathing hard, his back to Hux. He deactivates his lightsaber and clips it back to his belt. He is determined, it seems, to ignore Hux's presence (and even if he cannot hear him, Hux _knows_ that Ren knows he is there, he _always_ knows) and Hux is so very, very tired of this. 

“Lord Ren. Do you know what time it is?” He says in his most exasperated voice. He has quite a range of them, these days, but this is a level ten situation. 

“I do not wear a chrono, General. They do not work with this outfit.” It is his most irritating, sarcastic tone of voice (the one he doubtless inherited from his smuggler father, thinks Hux, and he feels Ren tense, as if he heard the thought pass through Hux's head. He probably did, thinks Hux).

But it is not Ren’s words which, though irritating, make him raise his eyebrows. The tone is...different. Hux realises, too late, that Kylo Ren is not wearing his mask. A thick shock of dark brown, almost black hair, is what Hux is now confronted with, and as Kylo turns to face him, for the first time in their acquaintanceship, Hux cannot seem to banish the pestering thought that Ren’s hair looks awfully soft for a Sith lord. Or whatever he is. 

What he is, it would seem, is a very young man. Or - perhaps not so young after all, Hux mentally amends. His crooked nose, high cheekbones and strong jaw strike Hux, but so too do the beginnings of lines, little crinkles, in the corners of his eyes, dark blue circles beneath them. The man is probably three or four years younger than him, Hux thinks. What makes him seem young are his eyes. They are a soft, deep brown, flecks of hazel in them highlighted in the dim emergency lighting of the comms room. They make him look - innocent. So do his lips, soft, pillowy and, now, crooking at the edges into a slight smile. 

Hux wonders why, until he realises he has spent the last several seconds thinking (probably very loudly) about Kylo Ren’s lips. 

\---------------------------------------------

The incident of the fallen comms room still rankles a week later. Hux has seen neither hide nor hair of Kylo Ren since that night, and he is nothing if not grateful. Ren has been sent with his Knights off ship, on a mission to retrieve some sort of artifact from a planet whose system they happened to be passing through. Hux neither knows nor cares about the specifics (a most uncharacteristic trait, but he is starting to realise that the less he knows about Kylo’s little adventures the happier he is). Kylo hasn’t taken more than a very small contingent of stormtroopers with him, and, much more importantly, he is out of Hux's hair for a full week. 

Still, nothing golden can stay. Hux is taking advantage of his half day off a week (he is never off-duty, not really, but he has instructed his Lieutenant to ensure he is not disturbed for anything less than a full-blown Resistance attack). He is reading. He has his favourite tea, a special blend he has imported onto the Finalizer at great personal expense, the spicy, oaky smell of it permeating the air of his small study, mingling with the lingering scent of cigarra smoke. He has Millicent purring softly in his lap. He is content, for the first time in weeks and nothing is going to disturb that peace. 

Until his comm buzzes. 

“What?” He barks. 

“General, I am so sorry to disturb you, but - ”

“Captain, are we under attack?” 

Phasma pauses. “Well, the hyperdrive generator is, sir.”

Hux closes his eyes. Ren. 

\-----------------------------------------------

“Lord Ren, this cannot continue.”

Kylo has removed his mask, and Hux is steadily avoiding his eyes. If he looks at them, he will recall the unpleasant and entirely uncalled for dream last night in which he was looking into them as Kylo moved on top of him, not exactly fully clothed. It is hardly the first time he’s had a sex dream about a coworker, and he will absolutely not let it affect his ability to discipline his colleague. 

No. Not discipline. Just. Ugh. 

“My methods of dealing with failure are absolutely none of your concern, General. Unless you’d prefer me to take it out on your troopers?”

Hux breathes deeply, controlling himself with an effort. “What I would _prefer_ , Lord Ren, is for the essential equipment on this ship to remain intact. For you to realise how childish and absurd you are being.”

“The Supreme Leader gives me - ”

“I really couldn’t care less what the Supreme Leader gives you, Ren. you are on my ship. You may not be part of the military hierarchy, you may think you answer only to Snoke, but you are a guest on board my ship, and you will treat it, treat me, with respect.”

Kylo is silent, seething.

“In the time that you have been here I have scarcely seen anything that convinces me you are worthy of the attentions of the Supreme Leader.”

“A good thing it’s not my job to convince you of anything, then. Do you honestly believe, General, that your opinion is of any value whatsoever?”

That one hits home. “Clearly it is to the Supreme Leader, Ren, or else he wouldn’t continue to ask me for it.”

Ren stands up. “You are nothing but a mindless bureaucrat, Hux. You cannot begin to comprehend the scope of our plans, and you will never, _ever_ , rise above your current state of mediocrity.” 

It is a testament to Hux's iron self-control that he does not draw his blaster. Instead, he sighs. 

“I am very, very tired of you, Kylo Ren. And yet, it is in moments like this, when you are at your most immature and infuriating, that I pity you the most.”

Kylo looks at though he is about to retort, but pauses. “What do you mean by that?” 

“You may see yourself as an integral part of the Supreme Leader’s plans, but all you really are is a tool. Malleable, to be shaped however the Supreme Leader wishes. When’s the last time you felt like a person?”

Kylo snorts. “You’re hardly the poster boy for humanity, Hux.”

“Fine. I agree. But at least I know I’m not really just the mindless bureaucrat you say I am. And you know it too.”

“Do I?”

“You can see inside my mind, can you not? You’re always bragging that you can.” 

Kylo meets his gaze, holds it for a minute, and storms off without another word. 

Hux rolls his eyes as he surveys the destruction in the plant room. He tries to focus his mind on the reallocation of budget figures that will be required to cover this mess, but his mind is elsewhere. 

Something has just changed. Hux wishes he could put his finger on what. 

\-----------------------------------------------

“I can assure you, Lord Ren, your presence here is not - ”

“Be quiet, General.” Kylo snaps through the modulator of his helmet. “I have been asked to attend these meetings by the Supreme Leader. His word is my command. I can assure you, I would infinitely rather be almost anywhere else, but clearly Leader Snoke believes my influence on these decisions is of importance.” 

Hux reddens. He will not lose his temper with Kylo again today. He will _not_. As a professional, it is up to him to discipline his subordinates (Kylo is not his equal, regardless of what the man himself seems to believe), and not to yell. He seems to spend a lot of his time yelling, lately. 

“Understood. Shall we begin, sir?” Phasma is looking meaningly at Hux. He knows she is willing him to calm down, to carry on as normal. He feels, not for the first time, grateful for her presence. 

“Yes. Thank you, Captain. Right, as you all know, the senior senators on Yavin II are conducting an EGM tomorrow to discuss…”

These meetings are not Hux's favourite part of his work day. A born and bred military man, he prefers commanding his troops on the bridge to dealing with First Order bureaucrats, but as a General, he seems to spend more time than ever managing work programmes, incompetent members of the Order military hierarchy, and chairing seemingly endless swathes of meetings, and far less time doing any actual strategizing, leading any assaults. 

Not to mention the now massive chunk of his working time (and budget) he seems to now have to allocate to firefighting Kylo Ren’s tantrums. 

“No.” 

Hux starts at the interruption. Kylo nevers has anything to say at these meetings. Why, pray tell, does he have to start now? 

_Ren, not Kylo_. When, exactly, had he started thinking of Ren as _Kylo_?

 _Somewhere between the first time you saw his face and what you did last night in bed, with that very face in mind_ , Hux's brain responds, unbidden. 

“Pardon, Lord Ren?” Hux replies, in what he hopes is his most dangerous-sounding voice. He knows perfectly well that Kylo is not intimidated by him in any sense, but it doesn’t hurt to keep up the fiction in front of his officers. “Did you have something you wished to contribute?”

“Yes. Your plan is stupid.”

Hux closes his eyes. “Either elaborate or keep quiet, Ren.”

“It won’t work. An all-out ambush is pointless at this stage. The military on Yavin is well-organised and the citadel is too well-protected. They won’t meet us in open combat and a siege will take months, years. Our men will starve before theirs do. It’d be an enormous waste of resources.”

He pauses. “I know how much you hate wasting resources, General.” 

Kylo’s mask is still on (thank goodness), but Hux knows he is smirking beneath it. 

“And you think you have a more viable strategy, Lord Ren?”

“Yes. Talk to them.”

“What?”

“We have no evidence they are planning to assist the Resistance in any way. For once in your life, General, it might serve you to attempt a diplomatic approach first.”

Hux is nearly apoplectic. A _diplomatic_ approach? This man, this creature who not three days previously had very nearly destroyed his hyperdrive in a hissy fit, was telling _him_ to try diplomacy? 

Far and away the most upsetting thing was that Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader’s mindless weapon, might actually have a point worth considering. 

He sighs. “Dismissed. Everyone.” 

His officers make to leave, and filter out quickly. He suspects they can sense his temper. 

“Not you.” 

Kylo stills, clearly contemplating strolling out anyway, and thinking better of it. He retakes his seat, and, much to Hux's chagrin, removes his helmet. 

“If you’re going to criticise my leadership, Lord Ren, I would strongly prefer it if you spoke to me privately, instead of doing your damndest to undermine my authority in front of my high command. Are we clear?” 

Kylo’s face softens, ever so slightly, his brow crinkling. Hux is given the chance to notice once more how young he looks without his perpetual armour disguising him. Hux does not wonder that he barely ever removes the mask. 

“I wasn’t actually trying to undermine you, you know.”

“It looked very much that way.” 

“Because you weren’t _thinking_!” Snaps Kylo. “You’re never like that. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I suggest you sort yourself out before we debrief with the Supreme Leader tonight.”

Hux is no longer surprised when Ren talks to him as though _he_ is the errant, unruly child, but it still gets on his last nerve like nothing else. 

“Lord Ren, I have had quite enough. Your input at these meetings is unwanted and you will no longer attend them.” 

Hux stands and makes to leave before things come to blows. He knows it would surprise no one on his ship if he and Ren actually got into a fistfight, given the escalating tensions between the two since Kylo returned from his last mission, but he really doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of actually witnessing their commanding office brawling, as though he were a drunken trooper on leave in a run-down cantina in the Outer Rim. 

“Kylo.” 

Hux pauses. “Excuse me?” He makes the grave mistake of turning back, to see that smug, knowing, half-smile on Kylo’s lips. 

Kylo stands and approaches him, already inserting himself much further into Hux's personal space than he is comfortable with. 

“You might as well just call me Kylo. It’s what you call me in here, after all.”

Kylo reaches up and lightly brushes the tips of two fingers against Hux's temple, holds them there for a fraction of a second longer than he really needs to to make the point, and without another word, stalks away, robes billowing behind him. 

\-----------------------------------------

General Hux is, for lack of a better word, _distracted_. 

He swears, this has never happened to him before. 

It is not his fault. He is a busy man, and it has been a very, very long time since he has had the opportunity to get down to business, as it were, with anyone (besides his own hand). It is not Hux's fault that Ren looks like _that_. He didn’t create this situation, it has been thrust upon him. 

It only occurs to him that it’s becoming a problem in his weekly staff meeting. Twenty senior officers, Phasma included, are gathered in the conference room. 

“....Do you agree, sir?”

Shit. He is being spoken to. He had drifted in and out of listening to Phasma’s report, a lack of respect she very much does not deserve from her commanding officer, and he feels a hot rush of shame.

“General? Are you feeling all right?”

He could excuse himself. He could pretend to be ill. He could admit that he’d been wondering very hard what else Kylo Ren was hiding beneath that hideous costume of his, besides that crooked, angular, altogether perfect face. 

Well, no. He probably couldn’t admit that. 

“Perfectly all right, thank you, Captain. I concur entirely with your recommendations. Now, I’m afraid you will all need to excuse me, I am needed planetside tomorrow and have considerable preparations to make. Dismissed.”

“But - ” begins one of his lieutenants.

“Dismissed.” He repeats, firmly. 

He makes his way as quickly as he can to his quarters. A session under the cold water of his ‘fresher will do him no end of good, he thinks. 

So the...situation, he thinks he’ll call it (the situation in which you, a general of the First Order, are rapidly becoming obsessed with an unstable wizard with daddy issues, his brain unhelpfully supplies), is getting a little out of hand, then. 

The cold water is doing very little to dissuade his burgeoning erection, and eventually he gives up, puts the hot water on, and takes himself in hand. 

When he had imagined, all those years ago, what his life would be like when he achieved the highest honour the military could offer, this was not what he had had in mind. 

\----------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know if you heard, sir, but - ”

“I did, thank you, Captain. I’m trying to locate Lord Ren as we speak, but the sensors aren’t picking anything up. He must being using his magical powers to hide himself.”

Phasma allows herself a small smile. “With all due respect, sir, I’d advise you not to refer to them as ‘magical powers’ in his presence. We don’t want the situation to escalate any further.”

Hux frowns. That’s the thing. It doesn’t seem to have escalated at all yet. 

Ren had arrived back with several fewer stormtroopers than he’d left with several hours ago, blew past Hux and Phasma on the landing bay without a word of greeting, and had not been seen since. The mission, evidently, had not been a success. 

“Report.” Said Phasma shortly.

“We were unsuccessful, Captain. Lord Ren was unable to locate the crystal. Our troop was unexpectedly hit by a group of Resistance fighters, and we lost seventeen men.”

Phasma drew breath quietly, but sharply. “Seventeen stormtroopers from FN. My men and women.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Dismissed, all of you.”

Hux has been expecting destruction, on a fairly massive scale, for the past three hours. He has been mentally preparing how he is going to explain to the Supreme Leader (and his accounts team) why an entire wing is now mysteriously burnt to a crisp, but...nothing. He sits in his command chair, Phasma by his side, tensely awaiting a report while he fills out the day’s paperwork. 

“Maybe he’s learned a way of calming himself down, sir. Meditation, perhaps. I believe that’s an established technique for force-users.”

The expression on Phasma’s face does not imbue Hux with a great deal of confidence that she believes her words. 

He sighs. “I’m going to the gym, work on some forms. Comm me if anything happens.”

Phasma nods. “Will do, sir.”

The officers’ gym in the wing where Hux's quarters are situated is reserved for personnel of Lieutenant General rank and above. On the Finalizer at this moment, that’s Hux and two other people, so, at any time, he has a reasonable chance of finding it how he likes it - empty. 

But luck has not been on Hux's side lately. Not for last 9 months, really. 

Kylo is shirtless, wearing nothing but a set of baggy black training pants which sit low on his hips. He is not doing anything particularly special. His lightsaber, blaster and robes sit in a heap to the side of the mat, he is simply taking out his (considerable) anger on a punching bag. Hux is surprised the room is still intact, let alone that Kylo is using it for its intended purpose. He is covered in a sheen of sweat, and briefly pauses to run a hand through his hair, unruly locks of which are starting to fall across his eyes. 

Hux swallows. He should probably alert Ren to his presence, he thinks, waiting a few more seconds before clearing his throat. 

Ren looks around, clearly startled. “General,” he starts. “I didn’t realise you were here.”

“Likewise.” Says Hux, approaching the mat. “Nobody’s been able to find you for hours. We were a little concerned.”

The edges of Kylo’s mouth curl up very slightly into an unmistakable smirk. “You were worried I was in a destructive mood, you mean.”

“It would hardly be the first time.”

“Well, General, I know how much you dislike having to clean up after me.”

“Yes, I thought that was your primary incentive.”

Kylo shrugs. “Usually. You’re right, though, I’m probably not helping the Supreme Leader by constantly making your life difficult. You said I was childish, immature.” He pauses. “You were right.”

Hux is not often lost for words. 

Kylo grins. “Come on then, General, I can see you’ve got some tension to work off. Join me?”

“ _Join_ you?”

“Why not?” 

Hux hasn’t sparred with a colleague in a long time. He briefly hesitates, knows he is rusty. Knows he probably won’t stand a chance against the muscular, well-drilled machine that is Kylo Ren. Knows he has let his lean muscles run slightly to seed in the years it has been since has seen any real front line combat. 

Still, Ren’s expression is anticipatory, with a hint of shyness, as though he is waiting to be rejected. Hux gives in. 

“OK. You might have to go easy for the first couple of rounds.” Hux starts divesting himself of his uniform, laying it neatly on the floor until he is clad only in his black pants and white vest. 

He _is_ rusty. Kylo is fast, faster than he looks like he possibly could be in the bulky outfit, and Hux realises he has known Kylo for the better part of a year, and has never really seen him fight. He moves with an almost feline grace than Hux was not expecting, he mixes up his style to catch Hux off-guard, to keep him on his toes. 

When Hux is flat on his back for the third time, it is time to wave the white flag. 

He sits up, perched on the edge of the training mat, beckons Kylo to come and sit beside him. Kylo does. 

“I never thanked you for last week.” Hux starts abruptly.

“Hm?”

“After the meeting about Yavin. You - you had some good ideas, and I shouldn’t have dismissed you out of hand.”

Kylo raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t mind. I hardly expected you to appreciate my input.”

“I should have done. It was stupid to negate your experience, when it could have been tactically useful. I’m a battle planner. I sometimes forget you come from a long line of diplomats.”

He knows it’s the wrong thing to say the minute it’s out of his mouth, but it’s too late now.

Kylo scowls, closes off. Again. “I didn’t exactly get a lot out of being stuck in interminable senatorial debates at age nine.” 

“Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Kylo relaxes slightly. “Don’t worry about it. Look, I should go. I have to report to the Supreme Leader. He’s… not going to be pleased, about today.”

This was such a palpable truth that Hux could hardly argue with him. He finds himself hoping Snoke would see his way to being lenient with Kylo. He somewhat doubts it. 

“We should talk, about Yavin. Go over some of your ideas?” Hux says. 

If Kylo is surprised, he does not show it. “Fine. I could meet you in the conference room tomorrow morning, if you want.”

Hux nods. “You can come to my quarters this evening, if you’d prefer?”

This time Kylo does raise an eyebrow. “You’ve never even told me where your quarters are. You really want to meet there?”

“Why not? It’ll be late. No sense in going all the way to the conference suite, it’s a ten minute walk from here.” 

Kylo shrugs. “OK by me. I’ll come by after, after Snoke.” He grimaces. 

Hux can only nod. 

\--------------------------------------

It is very late indeed, by Hux's standards, when the knock comes on his door. He could easily put Kylo off until tomorrow, but opens the door and lets him in, despite knowing this. 

Kylo looks a little the worse for wear. He moves more slowly, steps halting, slightly unnatural in comparison to his normal confident, strident movement. 

He has already removed his helmet, places it down on Hux's desk. Hux is, for the first time, grateful. He wants to see Kylo’s face. Thinks Kylo wants to be seen, too. 

“What happened? Did the Supreme Leader…”

“Well, I was right. He wasn’t pleased.” 

“Do you want to - I don’t know. Talk about it?”

Kylo shakes his head. “Not really. He says my performance lately has been very disappointing. That he is concerned I lack the necessary discipline to be his apprentice, after all.”

Hux is silent, waiting for more. 

“He wants you to take over the search for the remains of the map, while I submit myself to a more intense regime of training.”

“The map?” Hux is confused. 

Kylo sighs. “It’s what we’ve been looking for. There’s a map that the Supreme Leader believes will leads us to the last Jedi. To Luke Skywalker. We’re missing the last piece. Snoke wants me to retrieve it. Or rather, he wants you to retrieve it.” 

Hux raises an eyebrow. “He wants me, his most senior officer, to abandon supervision of construction of the largest weapon or space station to have ever been constructed, to search for piece of a jigsaw that may not even exist, so that he can, what? _Re-educate you_?”

 _Hurt you. Torture you._

_He can’t._

Kylo nods. “He can.”

Hux pauses briefly, then decides, against all his better judgment, to open his mouth. 

“You do know, don’t you, that Snoke has never wanted us to work together?”

He is treading into dangerous, shark-infested waters, he knows that. He knows he must tread lightly. 

But - he and Kylo _can_ work together. There is a man behind that infernal mask, a brilliant, sensitive, intuitive, ambitious man. Hux has seen flashes of him, now, and he’s damned if he’ll give up that man to this mystical, ascetic nonsense, not if he can help it. Hux sees the barely tempered rage and melancholy of Kylo’s grandfather in him, but he also sees the sharp, intelligent diplomacy of his mother, the reckless, quick-witted charm of his father. He also sees, very occasionally, signs of a gentleness he knows Kylo works hard to hide - his grandmother, perhaps?

Kylo scowls. “No. The Supreme Leader has only the good of the First Order in mind.”

“No, Kylo. He simply recognises how much power the two of us could wield if we really did accept each other. If we were willing to learn from each other. That kind of power is dangerous. Snoke is worried that when you have grown powerful enough, the two of us may decide that we no longer need him. So, instead, he tries to divide us, to keep us at each other’s throats, to make us jockey for position, for his favour, our rivalry keeping us from ever forming a real alliance. It makes sense. It’s what I’d do, too.” 

Kylo shakes his head. “The Supreme Leader knows I am loyal. I thought you were, too. Fanatically so.” 

“I am, for the moment. Do you think the Supreme Leader does not see my ambitions? If he’s as powerful with the - the force - as you say he is, I imagine there’s nothing about me he doesn’t see.” 

“So what do you think he has planned for you, when Starkiller Base is finished? When the Resistance is stamped out?” 

Hux pauses, briefly. “My summary execution, I should imagine. You don’t keep dangerous tools lying around after they’ve stopped being necessary.” 

“No.” Kylo’s tone is sharp, his fingers instinctively go to his lightsaber, clenching around it as it sits on his belt. “That won’t happen. I won’t allow that to happen. You are far too valuable.”

Hux chuckles. “To who, precisely? To Snoke, to the Order? I am competent enough, Kylo, but I am far from irreplaceable.” 

Kylo picks his helmet up, replaces it. “To me.” 

Hux sits in silence as Kylo leaves his quarters, heart pattering to an all too familiar beat, a surge of heat collecting in the pit of his gut. 

So that’s how it is, is it? Right. 

\--------------------------------------------------

It is just as Hux has convinced himself that Kylo will, after last night, no doubt find himself on yet another wild goose chase for Snoke, and will be away from the Finalizer, from Hux, for days on end, that his comm link rings. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

“Yes, Lord Ren?”

“Lord Ren? I thought we were past that, Hux.”

Hux sighs. “This is an official comm channel, Ren, I was trying to be professional. Obviously I had forgotten that such a thing is virtually impossible when talking to you.”

Hux's tone is still light, but Kylo is evidently not amused. 

“Fine. I was going to tell you that I’ve received some further intelligence about the senatorial meeting on Yavin, but if you’re not interested…”

“Kylo. Stop being a child. Of course I’m interested. What intelligence, how have you picked up anything our spies have missed? And don’t you dare say the Force.”

“The Force.” 

“You know, you are the most insufferable man I have ever had the displeasure of working with. You do know that, don’t you?”

He can practically feels Kylo’s smirk through the comm link. 

“Of course I know. I do everything possible to cultivate my insufferableness. You like me this way.” Now it is Kylo’s turn to tease (Hux didn’t realise Kylo had it in him), and Hux's to blush. 

“Fine, then. We should meet up to debrief. I’m free this evening, my staff meeting should be over by 2100, provided it doesn’t run long.”

“I’ll be free.” 

“Tonight, then, 2130?”

“Right.” Replies Kylo. “Your quarters again?”

Hux pauses. Makes a decision. “I’ve got some really quite good Corellian brandy that I haven’t had the chance to open yet. We could discuss it over a drink, if you like?” 

Another pause. Hux feels quite unseasonably warm (inasmuch as the Finalizer has seasons at all), all of a sudden, as he asks this. He is painfully aware that the tips of his ears are becoming hot as he awaits Kylo’s response and feels his disgust with himself rising. He is not a cadet stammeringly asking a deb to summer formal, he is a general, arranging a perfectly ordinary meeting. Or so he tells himself sternly. 

“I don’t drink.” Is all Kylo says. 

“Never? Are Knights of Ren not permitted to indulge in such things?” Hux's tone is lightly teasing, but he has succeeded, as usual, in putting Ren’s back up, it seems. 

“I’m permitted to do as I please.” Snaps Kylo. 

“I’m not sure Snoke would quite concur with you on that point.” 

“I’ll be there tonight. Have the brandy poured.” Kylo cuts off the comm link abruptly, leaving Hux to his exasperated eye-roll as Phasma appears around the corner. 

“Everything all right? Sir,” she adds quickly. 

“Fine, thank you, Captain. Anything to report?” 

“Nothing that requires your immediate attention, sir. A potential issue with the thermal oscillator has arisen in F4 sector. Three technicians are being moved from the primary control room tomorrow to take a look.”

“OK.”

“Beyond that, things seems to be improving. We’ve had an upswing in droid labour this week and we’re moving back on programme in almost every construction zone.” 

“Thank you, Captain. Is that the report on the oscillator?”

“A little bedtime reading for you, General.” Hux, as always, lets Phasma’s familiar tone slide. He would do nothing of the sort with any of his other direct subordinates, but he knows better than anyone the things Phasma puts up with on a daily basis. Of late, he knows his own tempers have been one of them. 

“Dismissed, Captain.” He says, taking the report. 

She salutes and stalks away. Hux sighs. In truth, he’s heard hardly a word she’s said. 

He’s still thinking, as is becoming upsettingly commonplace, of Kylo. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Kylo arrives at 2130 on the dot. Hux has kept up his end of the deal, the brandy is waiting for them on the side table in Hux's bedroom. 

“In here?” Asks Kylo, surprised. 

“I find it a little more comfortable” says Hux as smoothly as he can manage. 

The room is dimly lit. It is less austere than the rest of Hux's quarters, although still fairly sparsely furnished. The bed, Kylo notices, is large. Large enough for two, should the general ever feel the urge. Kylo wonders very much if he ever does. 

A flash of orange darts past Kylo’s legs, causing Hux to curse. 

“Millie. I forgot to put her in the study for the evening. My apologies, Kylo.”

“You have a cat? In here? Aboard the ship?”

“That’s not a problem, I assume?”

“No.” says Kylo slowly. “I just didn’t know.”

Hux chuckles. “Well, it’s not something that ever really comes up in the natural course of conservation, Ren.” he says as he re-enters the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Phasma knows, but I think she’s the only one. Well, and you, now.”

Kylo nods, sits himself awkwardly on the bed, noting the glass on the bedside table, resting on a coaster, of course. Hux sits opposite on a high-backed chair, behind his small bureau. 

“So.” begins Hux. “I believe we were going to discuss the situation on Yavin. You said you had intelligence to give me?” 

“I did. I have reason to believe the senate on Yavin II are planning on consolidating their allegiance to the New Republic by furnishing General Organa with troops.”

Hux is surprised, but tries not to show it. “I had hardly expected they would show their hand so soon. It’s a very bold move. They must realise we’ll find out and potentially plan a strike against them. If their military is tied up fighting us they can hardly join the Resistance.”

“Which is why they’ll make their move sooner, rather than later.”

“And leave themselves depleted of defences. They must surely have considered that.” Says Hux. 

“I’m sure they have.” Says Kylo, slowly. “The individual I received this intelligence from, a junior senator on Yavin, is currently awaiting interrogation in the holding cells.”

Hux nods. “You think it’s a trap. You think they’re trying to trick us into launching an assault.”

“Yes.”

“...I think you’re right.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” says Kylo with a wry smile. 

Hux rolls his eyes. “We should tell the Supreme Leader in our next debrief.” He sighs.  
“He’ll want an update. Looks as though the diplomatic approach is no longer on the cards.”

Kylo hesitates. It is brief, but Hux catches it. 

“What?”

“I’d prefer to wait, before telling Snoke anything further. I believe we can resolve the issue on Yavin ourselves.” 

“You’re not serious.”

Kylo nods, taking a sip of the brandy. It is sweet but sharp, and is clearly not to Kylo’s taste. It is not really to Hux's, either, who prefers the dry, smoky, flavour of a whisky. Still, it is not bad. It is getting him lightheaded faster than he thought. He refuses to admit, even to himself, that his proximity to Kylo is not helping him keep his head straight. 

“I thought about what you said last night. You...you made some good points. I still trust my master, but he is strong with the dark side in ways I cannot yet comprehend. I would be foolish to think there is nothing he is concealing from me. Or from you.”

“It doesn’t change anything.” Says Hux. 

“No,” admits Kylo. “But it made me think. It made me realise it’s been a long time since I’ve really, truly thought for myself. Snoke wants me to focus my anger to make me stronger with the Force. He doesn’t want me to use my brain, to use any of my other skills. He doesn’t see anything in me, other than the potential of the dark side. You did. It was different, it made me feel...different.” Kylo’s words are coming faster, he is slightly flustered, pink in the cheeks with embarrassment, spurred on by the alcohol he is so unused to.

“It made me feel good.” Kylo bows his head, taking another sip of brandy. 

Hux pauses. He almost doesn’t know what to say. He’d say that he was surprised to hear these words coming from someone who’d professed to despise him so many times. He can’t really believe Kylo hates him now, though. Not - not when he’s looking like that, guileless and soft, in Hux's direction. 

Hux most certainly does not hate Kylo right now. Did he ever? He wonders. 

“This is quite good.” Muses Kylo. “It burns a little going down, though.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m starting to already, I think.”

Hux smiles. “Don’t get too fond of it. I’m sure Snoke would have words for me if I led his apprentice down a path of drunkenness and debauchery.” 

As if Hux would ever be so lucky. 

“You were right, earlier.” Kylo says, haltingly. “What you said on the comm.”

“Hm?” Hux looks up. Kylo has stilled, the colour rising in his cheeks. All his usual confidence has disappeared in the face of his uncertainty. These are without doubt uncharted waters for him. 

“I’ve never...indulged. In anything. It’s not...”

“Permitted?”

“It’s not so much that.” Says Kylo stiffly. “Supreme Leader would never consider the possibility of my ever getting the opportunity to sit down and have a drink with anyone. Or…”

“Wait a minute,” says Hux, sitting up. “You said anything. You’ve never indulged in anything.”

If ever a man’s silence was eloquent, Kylo’s was at that moment.

“So you’ve never. I mean. Never?” Hux's words come slowly and awkwardly, in a way he is not used to. Speech normally flows from him as though it were rehearsed to perfection. It often is. 

“Well. No. It’s not something that I’ve ever really thought about, mostly. There always seemed more important things to worry about.”

It’s such a _Kylo_ thing to say that Hux cannot help but smile. He feels warm, almost lightheaded in a way that he is not entirely sure he can blame on the rather limited amount of alcohol coursing through his blood. He looks at Kylo, who takes another small sip of brandy and sets his glass down on the coaster, and a jolt of electricity shoots down him, through his chest to settle in the pit of his stomach. Hux tries admirably to convince himself it is the sharp tang of the bittersweet brandy, and not the trembling, wet, soft curve of Kylo Ren’s bottom lip as he worries it between his teeth. 

“Mostly. So you have thought about it, then?” This is a dangerous road to be going down. This way lies madness, and Hux knows it well. The swig of brandy he takes sits, hot, in his throat and stomach, and he doesn’t care. 

“Yes.” says Kylo, simply. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he will not look anywhere but down at his ungainly legs, and Hux worries he is fast becoming too inebriated for this conversation (and, really? _Half_ a brandy, Ren?), but he quickly realises it is embarrassment, not drunkenness which is causing the pinkness creeping up Ren’s neck, upon his cheeks, to the tips of his charmingly oversized ears. 

Hux stands up. Moves slowly, sits on the bed beside Kylo. Sets his glass down beside Kylo’s on the table. 

“What have you thought about, then?” Hux can scarcely believe himself, berates himself, but he somehow, stupidly, does not stop. Does not send Kylo far, far away, never to return or imbibe alcohol with him ever again. 

Kylo looks at him, and he is a little bit lost. Kylo’s pupils are blown, his lips wet, the tops of his cheeks red. 

“I don’t...do you really want to know?”

“If you want to tell me.”

“...Yes.”

Hux inhales, slowly. “You’ve...fantasised?”

“Yes.”

“Is...do you think about anything in particular?” 

“I think about men, usually. A man. Someone I know, mostly. It makes it easier.”

Hux is not going to ask. Not yet. He is not quite ready to humiliate himself to that extent.  
It is bad enough that he has moved closer to Kylo, close enough that the tops of their knees are touching, brushing. Kylo’s practically vibrating, a nervous energy brought on by his own revelations. By his recklessness. Hux is never reckless. He has never been, before tonight. 

“Go on.” He barely recognises his own voice, rough, gravelly.

“I...I don’t know, Hux.”

“This man...what does he do to you? In the fantasy?”

“He just touches me. My hair, he starts by stroking my hair.”

“Like this?” Hux throws any and all his remaining dignity out of the window and reaches out. 

Kylo’s hair is as soft as it looks, as soft as Hux has always thought it would be, when he thought about running his hands through it, thought about how it would feel. Those lonely nights in his quarters with nothing, no one to touch but himself. 

Kylo’s eyes slide closed, he exhales slowly and deeply as Hux threads his long fingers through his hair. They reach his scalp and brush lightly against it, and then less lightly. Kylo groans softly, and Hux forgets to breathe. 

“He touches my face next. Just…”

Hux nods, not trusting himself to speak. His hand inches down towards Kylo’s face, his beautiful face, and he lightly brushes his knuckles, the tips of his fingers, against Kylo’s cheekbone. Against a soft brow, down his long, crooked, perfect nose, and the corner of his mouth. He stops. His body is thrumming with desire, they are both holding their breath, tense, bodies tight with arousal. He pauses, and Kylo’s mouth slowly, gently parts for him. Hux lets out the breath he has been holding, and slips the tips of his index and middle finger between those plush, soft lips. 

_Gods_. Kylo’s mouth is a furnace, his tongue slips between Hux's fingers and he sucks, his eyes closed, he looks...obscene, like this. He takes Hux's hand between both of his, runs the tip of his tongue down Hux's index finger to swirl on the tip, opening his lust-blown eyes to look directly at Hux.

Hux's skin feels hot, like he is running a fever, and suddenly madness takes hold of him.

“This man you dream about.” He says, suddenly sharp, removing his fingers, his other hand winding its way into Kylo’s hair, gripping it. “Who is he. I’ll - I’ll kill him. I’ll have him killed.”

Kylo has the sheer gall to _laugh_. “Hux. You absolute _idiot_.”  
He grabs Hux by the back of his neck, and finally, _finally_ , they are kissing, Kylo’s lips hot and soft on Hux's own, that tongue slipping into Hux's mouth sloppily, desperately, and it is becoming clearer how inexperienced Kylo really is, but Hux cannot even begin to care, Kylo’s enthusiasm for him is so completely arousing. Hux has never felt like this with any of his previous partners. 

One of Kylo’s hands grips his hair while the other winds around Hux's body to pull him close. Their chests brush but the position is awkward; Hux throws caution to the wind and swiftly slides a leg over Kylo’s hips, knees either side of him on the bed, and gently maneouvres him backwards until he is leaning back against the headboard. He joins their lips again, Kylo’s little sighs of pleasure turning into a moan, low and filthy, as Hux settles himself on top of Kylo, straddling his lap. Hux shifts slightly and Kylo grips his hair almost painfully, and he is so hard against Hux. 

Hux leans back slightly to pull his shirt off, and wordlessly insists that Kylo follow suit. Kylo’s body is no less impressive than he remembers from their sparring session in the gym, his broad shoulders, his firm chest lightly dusted with hair, his torso peppered with beauty marks to match his face. Hux is painfully aware that in comparison, his own physique is nothing to write home about. Still skinny in comparison to most officers and very pale, his skin is freckled and he has only a light scattering of red hairs on his lower abdomen. Still, he has never been ashamed of the way he looks (there is very little time or room for insecurity as a First Order cadet or officer) and he’s not about to start now. Kylo’s looking at him as though he hung the moon, anyway, so he suspects the man beneath him has no complaints whatsoever. 

He wraps his arms around Kylo and kisses him, mouths at Kylo’s jawline, gently nips at him all the way up to his earlobe, sucks it between his front teeth. Kylo whimpers, pulling Hux impossibly closer, grappling at his back, his nails short but still a little sharp as they dig in. It is a pain Hux enjoys, always has done. 

He sighs, exhaling a soft breath against the skin of Kylo’s neck, mouthing at him at his pulse point, gently sucking the skin. Kylo softly moans and grips Hux's hips harder as Hux lightly bites down on his neck. Kylo’s breathing is heavy as he grinds up into Hux, and Hux feels his nails start to dig into his hips. 

Kylo’s hands are roaming over his body, exploring him as fully as they can, his large hands stroking Hux. He is a little clumsy, yes, but he is being surprisingly hesitant, gentle, with Hux, and the thought of that makes Hux's body surge with an unexpected, intense protectiveness. Kylo has never done this before. Hux is his first. _His last, his only, please_ , Hux's traitorous brain supplies, and Hux realises he is beyond sense now. Cannot bring himself to care all that much. Not when Kylo’s big, ungainly, soft hands are fumbling inexpertly at the fly of his uniform pants as he mouths wetly at Hux's chest.

Hux cannot keep in the groan that escapes him as Kylo’s plush lips part around his nipple, tonguing it gently. Hux hisses as he feels the light scrape of Kylo’s teeth. He has always been sensitive here, and he knows Kylo can tell, he has Hux's pants open, can feel Hux throbbing with need above him. 

Hux realises they need to move this on sharpish, lest he embarrass himself even further. He regretfully lifts himself from Kylo, hands scrabbling to remove the remainder of his clothing. He takes off his pants, uncharacteristically clumsy beneath Kylo’s heady, lustful gaze. Kylo copies him, discarding his pants and underwear in one go, throwing them, careless, on Hux's bedroom floor. 

Ah, well. _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , Hux thinks, and removes his last piece of clothing, tossing them to join Kylo’s on the floor. 

Well. Kylo is...satisfyingly proportionate. Almost intimidatingly so. Not that he has any intention of stroking Kylo’s ego by telling him so, but Hux is almost concerned for himself. It has been quite a while, after all, with nothing but his own fingers. Still, he didn’t make general by giving up at the first hurdle. Not, he suspected, that his teachers at the Academy had this precise situation in mind when they were teaching him about the value of perseverance. 

Hux lays back on the bed, feeling Kylo’s eyes follow him. He rests his head on the pillow and parts his legs. His cock is flush, hard, and wet at the tip, and throbs with need when he looks at Kylo’s firm body beside his. Kylo bites his lip, eyes hooded, but pauses, as if uncertain how to proceed. _He probably is_. 

Hux takes pity on him. “Come here.” He says, taking Kylo by the arm and pulling him until he is on top of Hux, his body a warm weight upon Hux's own. He wastes no time in pulling Kylo into another kiss, shamelessly grinding against Kylo’s cock, thick and hard above his own aching prick. 

Kylo’s eyes are closed, his face buried in Hux's neck as he grinds against Hux. Hux grips him by the arm. 

“Kylo,” he says, his voice low in his throat, “what do you want?”

Kylo’s pupils are blown so wide his eyes are practically black. He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I want - whatever you want.”

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

Kylo hesitates. “I - you know I’ve never - ”

Hux nods. 

“Is that what you want?” Asks Kylo.

“Yes.” 

Kylo pauses infinitesimally, then nods. 

Hux kisses him quickly, and reaches for his bedside drawer. Uncaps the lube and passes it to Kylo.

“Fingers first, yeah?”

“Yeah.” says Kylo thickly, kissing Hux gingerly as he slicks up three fingers. 

He slips his tongue into Hux’s mouth, and Hux inhales sharply as Kylo thumbs the wet tip of his cock, slipping his index finger inside him. 

Hux reminds himself to breathe slowly. Kylo’s fingers are long, thick, and hell, if this is what it feels like with just one inside him…

Kylo’s eyes are shut, he is mouthing at Hux’s neck again as he adds a second finger, and - oh. That is - 

“Is that OK?” Asks Kylo, and Hux’s chest pangs. It is so unusual to see Kylo this unsure of himself. This eager to please. 

“Yeah,” says Hux. “More than OK, Kylo, that’s - really good.”

Kylo motions his fingers slowly in and out of Hux, and Hux, he needs more.

“If you - just bend your fingers slightly, just like - ”

Kylo does so, and Hux gasps.

“Yes, yes, just like that,” Hux whimpers, as the pads of Kylo’s first two fingers brush against his prostate, a light pressure at first. Hux wets his dry lips, exhales. “Another.”

Kylo does not protest this time, fingering him hard and fast, every stroke pressing against his prostate and making him moan louder. He is gripping Kylo’s bicep in practically a vicegrip, and the thought that he might leave a bruise only makes him harder. 

He could come just like this, he knows. It’s only happened once or twice before, but Kylo’s fingers are moving so perfectly inside him, and he doesn’t want to finish now, not this time. 

He grips Kylo’s wrist and stills him. “Ready,” he says, breathless. 

Kylo nods and slowly pulls his fingers out, goes to lube his very hard, thick cock. 

“A bit more than that, if that’s OK,” smiles Hux. “You’re very - impressive, you know.”

Kylo reddens, adds more lube, closes his eyes as he strokes himself once, twice. 

He looks so delicious, so obscene above Hux like this, and Hux cannot help but think about what he wants to do Kylo, next time. He hopes desperately that there is a next time. He wants to take Kylo’s cock into his mouth, feel it pulse with his arousal, to tease the tip with his tongue. He wants to eat Kylo out, wants to lay him flat on his back and make him come on his tongue and fingers alone. 

He knows he is projecting his thoughts by the way Kylo looks at him, mouth hanging open slightly, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded with desire. 

Hux spreads his legs, hooking one calf around Kylo and pulling him close. 

“You want - like this?”

Hux nods. It is not the ideal position, especially for their first time together. But he can’t help it. He wants to see Kylo’s face. He doesn’t say this. But he knows Kylo understands. 

He kisses Kylo as one hand wraps around Kylo’s cock to slowly guide him inside. Kylo groans as he is finally seated all the way inside Hux, Hux’s legs lifted and wrapped around Kylo, pulling him as close as possible. 

Kylo thrusts slowly at first, his eyes not leaving Hux’s, their mouths brushing. Hux groans. Kylo is so big, so thick, and he he feels so good inside of Hux, he fills him completely. Hux’s hand drops down to Kylo’s ass, squeezing and pulling him in close, urging him on. 

Kylo speeds up with a moan, and Hux finds his hands back in Kylo’s hair, this time tugging at the soft, thick strands. If his reaction is anything to go by, Kylo very much enjoys that. 

Kylo slips his hands under Hux’s thighs, pushing his legs up further, and his cock pushes in impossibly deeper, and Hux lets out a loud moan as Kylo starts fucking him in earnest, harder and faster, his cock pushing up against Hux’s prostate with almost every thrust.

Kylo’s face is buried in Hux’s neck now, Hux can feel his hot breath on his skin, the gentle nuzzle of his teeth as Kylo mouths at him. Hux feels his body go slacker, giving himself up wholly to the pleasure, and he knows he will not last much longer. He feels Kylo start to move even faster, more erratically, and he knows he is not the only one. 

“Hux - oh, oh god, Hux - ”

“Touch me - fuck, touch me, please, Kylo - ”

Hux’s hands have flopped loosely on the bed by the sides of his ears, and he thinks in the back of his mind one day he will ask Kylo to hold him down there, by his wrists, just the way he likes, and he forgets again that Kylo can see, can feel his desires. Kylo grabs both his wrists in one large hand, his long fingers tightening their grip as he holds Hux down and uses his other hand to wrap around Hux’s cock.

It only takes two, three strokes before Hux is clenching around Kylo, coming harder than he has in a long, long time, and his eyes are tightly shut, and he is a little delirious, but he thinks he might be whimpering Kylo’s name as Kylo, too, empties himself inside of Hux with a stutter of his hips and a low groan. 

It takes a moment or two for the both of them to come down from their high, Kylo at last relaxing his body, propping himself up on his forearms as he pulls out of Hux as slowly as he can manage. Hux’s legs are still spread, tingling with numbness from his upper thighs all the way down to the tips of his toes. He starts to feel an ache in his inner thigh muscles, and he smiles. He hopes he can still feel it tomorrow. 

Kylo has flopped onto his back next to Hux, not distant, but quite carefully not touching Hux, and Hux doesn’t need to be attuned to the force to sense his uncertainty. 

“I - ” Kylo starts, his voice rough and low. “That was amazing. I mean, I know I haven’t before, and I don’t - but for me, I mean, it was amazing.” 

Hux throws him an incredulous look. “You daft creature. It was amazing for me too. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” Says Kylo, and a genuine smile appears on his face, completely guileless and with none of the arrogance of his usual smirk. 

“Obviously. Now, we need to get in the ‘fresher, but right now I’d very much like it if you got over here.”

Kylo is still a little hesitant but shifts himself over to Hux’s side of the bed, throwing an arm over his body and pulling him close, tucking his face into the crook of Hux’s neck. He places a light kiss there, and Hux sighs softly. He wants to ask Kylo if this will happen again, when will it happen again, can it be today, and any number of questions perfectly inappropriate to a man of his station, but he doesn’t. 

Kylo’s breathing is starting to slow, to even out, behind him, and Hux, in truth, is starting to feel heavy with exhaustion, his eyelids aching for sleep. He pulls the top sheet over both their bodies and resigns himself. He’s feeling disgusting, he hasn’t set an alarm, he hasn’t finished any of the reports he wanted to get done tonight, but in truth at the moment he’s not all that that bothered. He’s in Kylo Ren’s arms, he can feel Kylo’s warm breath on his skin, and as Kylo’s hand closes around his, their fingers lacing together, he thinks, _fuck it_. 

They’ll worry about everything else tomorrow. 

\------------------------------------------------------------


End file.
